Actions and Motives
by Dark Duchess and Shadow Queen
Summary: For every action, there is a motive behind it. Even if the motive is unknown, even to the one who is acting. Albus/Scorpius SLASH.
1. Strangers

**A/N: Ok. So this is many firsts for me. It's my first chaptered fic (posted), it's my first Harry Potter, it's my first slash, and my first OC. :D Crazy crazy. I am very excited to be posting this but I'm also afraid that I won't keep with it. So review and keep me writing. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I is not J. K. Rowling so yeah. I do not own the characters. Cept Kate. She's mine. I also do not own the myriad of songs that I will be using throughout this. They belong to their respective artists.**

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**Strangers**

Yeah, the friends who stuck together  
We wrote our names in blood  
But I guess you can't accept that the change is good.

- Ignorance by Paramore

"Are you trying to make me look like a fool?" I asked, pushing away my classmate and best friend.

"You seem to be doing a fine job of that all by yourself," Albus said coldly, hurt and angry churning in those…. oh-so-beautiful green eyes. I flinched as if he'd physically slapped me.

"I'm sorry. Its just….."

"Save it," he said, brushing off the hand that reached for his. "I get it. I went too fast. It's fine." He began to walk through the snow back towards the entrance of the school.

"NO! AL!" He didn't turn. His steps didn't slow. The deceptively-pure-looking snow swirled around and through his black hair. I stood and watched his receding footprints through the powder of the season's first snow.

Maybe I should back up. And introduce myself. Um. I'm Scorpius Malfoy and the gorgeous boy filled with pain is my…. love, Albus Severus Potter. This whole situation started in such stupid, mundane ways and ended up almost destroying my life as I knew it. Actually, if you want the full ridiculous tale, it started in our first year. With those damned House assignments, our fates were sealed. But that wasn't even our first meeting, was it? For six years, those eyes have haunted me. You'd think I'd always remember the first time they bore into mine.

_13_

"Hey. Um, is anyone sitting here?"

Bold as brass, he was. He walked in and looked at me with that smile only in his eyes. I nodded mutely. I couldn't say no, even though I knew exactly who he was and what Grandfather would say if he caught word of me, his precious "prodigy", consorting with the "blood traitors and halfers".

Oblivious to my internal struggle, he sat down across from me at my nod.

"I'm Albus. Albus Potter." His infectious grin spread across his feature. _Well, obviously, half-wit, _I couldn't help but think. "What's your name?"

"Scorpius." He didn't know the effort it took to even get that much out.

"Oh," he said as if he had just realized something. "You're Draco Malfoy's son." Who would have thought recognition would scare me so much? My father had told me our name meant different things to different people. I couldn't tell what it meant to him, though. His face only showed curiosity, not the animosity or reverence I had come to expect based on experience.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, barely managing to suppress the hostility I felt enough to keep it from my voice.

"Should it be?" His question caught me off-guard. I'd never though about whether or not it SHOULD be. It always just WAS.

"…No," I finally answered. "No, it shouldn't."

"Good. Then it's not." That damned grin returned.

_13_

"Malfoy, Scorpius." _Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord,_ I thought as I started over and sat on that weathered stool. _I have to be in Slytherin. I have to…. I just have to._

_ Have to, eh?_ A voice in my head. I thought I was going crazy when I realized it was the voice of the ancient hat that was upon my head. _Why exactly do you have to?_

_ A hat is talking to me. Um… I have to because my parents will disown me if I don't._ I was answering a hat. Most definitely sure I was crazy.

_Are you sure? Are you positive your parents won't love you just the same?_ The hat continued to question.

_ They might love me but they'll never forgive me, _I said matter-of-factly.

_Do you think you're clever enough to fit in, in Slytherin? Can you handle being in the hated house?_ the hat needled at me. I drew myself up.

_I'll have to, won't I?_ The hat wheezed a laugh.

_You'll do fine, boy_.

"SLYTHERIN!" No one was surprised. There were scattered claps and my new house broke into cheers. They had no idea I had to fight for my position in the house of my forebears.

A couple terrified first years later, it was Al's turn. He looked just as afraid as everyone else, though he had seemed fine on the train and even on the boats on the lake. He took a steadying breath, squared his shoulders, and walked up to stool. He sat and the hat was placed on his head. It took quite a bit of time for the hat to decide whether or not he was going to be in a house he wanted. I could tell by the look on his face he was arguing with the old hat. Finally, Al seemed to sigh and his face said "If you must."

"SLYTHERIN!" it screeched. The room seemed to be in shock. A Potter in Slytherin? The Chosen One's look-a-like son was in the dreaded house? Whispers full across the Great Hall. Irritated, I began to clap as loud as I could. My new house recovered seconds later and began to clap as well. Soon, all whispers dissolved into cheers for the newest incoming Hogwarts student. Better yet, they cheered for the newest Potter child, the offspring of the savior of our way of life. It was amazing, in a backwards kind of way. They knew now, without a doubt, Albus would be different from his father. And there was nothing they or anyone could do about it. They cheered for a boy coming into his independence. I cheered for the one boy who didn't seem to care who I was, maybe because he too had been judged by his name. But no more. And we both knew it.

He sent me the sweetest smile as he sat down across from me and mouthed a quick thanks. The ceremony continued from there. It wasn't long before "Weasley, Rose" was called. The hat had barely touched her head when it screamed,

"GRYFFINDOR!" She smiled and joined her cousins, already seated at the table. The last person standing in front of the stool waiting to be sorted was a tiny little girl. Her sandy-blonde hair reached little over halfway down her back. She was frightened but had the good sense not to show it, except in those wide blue-gray eyes. When her name was called ("Zimmerman, Kate"), she walked calmly up to stool and sat down. The Sorting Hat was placed on her head and after a few minutes conversation between hat and girl, it smiled as well as any hat could.

"SLYTHERIN!" Kate came and sat down in the empty on my left side. She smiled a greeting and turned her attention to Headmistress McGonagall. McGonagall spoke, giving the normal beginning of school warnings: no Forbidden Forest (hence FORBIDDEN); no magic in the halls or the caretaker, a cranky woman named Ms. Yuul, would have a shit-fit. We were so attentive that first year but we all tuned it out from that point on. After McGonagall said her part, the feast commenced.

"This place is incredible!" Kate said, turning to me. Her eyes lit up as she took in everything about her. "I didn't know Hogwarts was so…." She trailed off, unable to tear her eyes off the scene.

"Yeah, my parents said they loved it here," I said, wanting conversation.

"Mine too," Al chimed in.

"My parents didn't come here. They didn't attend any magic school." Kate hadn't noticed that every Slytherin within hearing range had stopped talking.

"So… your parents can't do magic?" asked one of the older kids, a fifth year. He looked like he could have taken on a troll and come out even. His name was Evan Runner, and he looked down his ridiculously long nose at Kate, who drew herself up at his question.

"No, they can't. Is that a problem?" Hostility seeped into her voice and it never left her eyes. The fifth year sneered and started a whispered conversation with his neighbor.

"Stupid. Who gives a damn if I'm a Mudblood?" Al and I were shocked to hear that word roll so casually off someone's tongue (especially someone talking about themselves). We had grown up treating that word as a swearword, one ten times worse than the "F bomb".

"What? I'm a Mudblood, in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat told me I'd be the first one. I told him to bring it on. Apparently, he found that an adequate response." She smiled as she finished speaking.

"The hat called you a Mudblood?" I asked, really confused. I hadn't thought a supposedly unbiased entity as the Sorting Hat would call anyone such a foul name.

"Is there another word for it?" She looked puzzled, like she'd never even considered the possibility that there might be. Her facial expression caused Al to dissolve into giggles while I explained to her.

"Yes. There is another word. The _polite_ word is Muggle-born."

"Oh. That's lame. I like Mudblood a whole helluva lot better." She had a slight pout on her lip, as if we were going to try to force her to not say it. I shook my head at her.

"Whatever you say." She looked pleased at this and started to sample everything she could get her hands on, totally ignoring the other Slytherins staring at her all through dinner. Finally, the feast was over and we were allowed to leave the Great Hall in lieu of our new House and dormitories.

_13_

That first night still remains in my head. We were all so excited; Al, Kate, and me. We couldn't seem to help ourselves. Being led to the dungeons by an exhausted-looking prefect, giving the password of "Salazar" to that seemingly-random space of wall, walking into our common room for the first time. This was wonderful but not the best part (or what sticks best in my head). As we walked into our dormitory, Albus Severus Potter looked right at me and said words I will never forget so long as I live:

"I'm happy I got the same house as you. I don't know what I would've done if I had to be separated from you."

I had not realized, up until that moment, that I had made a friend. A true friend, not one that was doing what their pureblood parents said to in order to keep up inter-familial relations. Someone who truly liked me for who I was, who wasn't in struck in awe or in horror by my last name. He just happened to be the son of my father's school rival. Two days ago, I would have broken off all relations, just because my family wouldn't have approved. Now, I couldn't bring myself to give a shit, my family be damned.

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**End A/N: Um…. Hope you liked it. Btw, the 13's are used in place of linebreaks because I have such problems with them so I no longer use them. If you want this continued, I need reviews. I can't write past a certain point without reader feedback. So, do you like Kate? Should I continue using her? She's kinda important to the future plotline but I can change it if nobody likes her. And if you don't like her here, she gets better in the next chapter.**


	2. Judgment

**A/N: So sorry about the wait. I told some of the people who reviewed that this would be up two weeks ago. However, I underestimated the insanity of teachers at prep schools. Grrrr. Moving on. The yearly project I also mentioned to some people is now over and thus so is my excuse for not posting.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I is not J. K. Rowling so yeah. I do not own the characters. Cept Kate. She's mine. And Kieran. Sexy boy-child is mine. I also do not own the myriad of songs that I will be using throughout this. They belong to their respective artists.**

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**Judgment**

If I'm a bad person, you don't like me  
Well I guess I'll make my own way  
It's a circle  
A mean cycle  
I can't excite you anymore  
Where's your gavel? Your jury?  
What's my offense this time?  
You're not a judge but if you're gonna judge me  
Well sentence me to another life.

- Ignorance by Paramore

That first term of first year was something I will never forget. The classes were the coolest things imaginable for someone like me, who had been bored to death at home with my parents.

I already knew a vast majority of the spells that we went over the theory for the first couple weeks. Because of this, only Herbology and Potions were new to me. My father had always said he loved Potions when he was in school, it was the subject he did best in. Apparently, it was genetic because I loved it too. The teacher, Professor Vixsidy, was the Head of Ravenclaw but she didn't have any house prejudices, which (I was coming to find) was rare in teachers, especially Heads of House. She liked me because of my genuine interest in her class, even though we were doing simple little things to start off.

Al, of course, hated Potions. He thought it was the most ridiculous class ever. I just laughed and told him he could kick my ass in Transfiguration so I didn't see why he was getting jealous of my skill in Potions.

"It's not jealousy!" he declared vehemently as we walked out of a double-Potions block with the Gryffindors. I just rolled my eyes. About that time, I felt a hand grab my bag. I turned around to see who it was and was met with the broad chest of a guy who looked to be about a third year in my house. He looked menacingly down at me and (I'll admit it. I was eleven, after all.) I was scared.

"So. You're the latest Malfoy to haunt these halls." I nodded, squaring my shoulders. I was damn scared but it was about my family. I refused to take crap about my family when we had done nothing wrong (Well, my great-aunt and –uncle had but we never talk about them). I expected the older kid to say more but I definitely did not expect what happened next.

"So what if he is?" Kate asked, coming to stand at my side. "Why's it any of your concern?"

"His family got off easy, Mudblood!" he yelled. "My grandparents and parents suffered while the Malfoys endured in style, off living the easy life while my family rotted in Azkaban!"

A crowd had gathered by this point. Some of the Slytherins nodded in understanding while the Gryffindors stood by and jeered, casting off comments about how they had deserved what they got. Al opened his mouth to help out the argument when a voice from the crowd spoke out and its owner stepped forward.

"We've all paid a price, Macnair, in some form or other. No pureblood walked away unscathed." The speaker looked to be a second-year and was about half-a-foot shorter than Macnair. Even though he was smaller than the older boy was, everything about him commanded respect from all who gathered. His snapping baby-blue eyes scanned the Slytherins in the crowd and none would meet his gaze. Macnair stared at the stones before his feet, glaring mutinously at them as if they should have talked him out of going after me.

"We should probably get to lunch. Don't want it to get cold," the second-year continued in his quiet, calm voice. The group scattered, wanting to leave the powerful boy's presence as soon as possible. He sighed, running his fingers through his chocolate brown hair, turning to our group. We were still planted where we had stopped.

"Sorry about him. Macnair's got a bit of resentment about how some pureblood families got punished more than others. Everyone knows the circumstances around _your_ family but Macnair's got a stick up somewhere sticks don't belong." He smiled before continuing. "I'm Kieran, by the way. Kieran Nott." We all shook his outstretched hand and I thanked him profusely for his help. He shook his head.

"I didn't do any more than Miss Zimmerman did. Or any more than Potter almost did." Kate blushed at him knowing her name. "We've all had to deal with prejudices from other wizards about being related to people who made damn stupid choices. We don't need it from each other, especially since we know what it's like. You can't choose your family; you're just kinda stuck with them." We nodded in agreement and he left us.

"Is he not the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?!" Kate gushed as soon as he was gone.

"What?! No way!" Al told her.

"Yeah," I said, "he'd look tons better if he had black hair. Not that I noticed what he looked like or anything."

"Same. And blue eyes are so overrated, anyway. Silver eyes are prettier." Al said, looking satisfied with himself. Kate looked at us both, raised her eyebrows, and dissolved into giggles at the looks on our faces. She walked towards the Great Hall, still laughing, as Al and I sped after her.

"What's so funny?" Al asked. She giggled again.

"If you don't know, I'M not gonna be the one to tell you."

"That's mean, Katie!" I whined (yes, whined. I was eleven. I had the prerogative).

"Oh, hush," she replied and entered the Great Hall.

_13_

"Scor! Oh, Scor, look!" I rolled my eyes at Al's enthusiasm. I had noticed I'd been doing it increasingly the longer we had been friends.

"What, Albus?" He pointed at a piece of paper pinned to the wall.

"FLYING LESSONS FOR FIRST YEARS!!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Al! Inside voice, if you please. I need my ears attached to skull and capable of hearing!" Kate sashayed over to us and looked at the paper.

"Wicked," she calmly noted.

"When is it?" I sighed, knowing it was mandatory.

"Monday morning, right after breakfast. Awesome, that means no History of Magic," Kate answered. Al seemed to have trouble finding his "inside voice" so he was keeping his mouth shut and wiggling on the spot.

_13_

Monday morning dawned bright and cold. Looking out the window, I grimaced and pulled my scarf tighter around my neck. Al had raced through brushing his teeth and hair and was waiting for me in the Common Room as I took my time. When I came down, he was glaring at the door as if willing me to come out of it. As I drew level with him, he took off through the wall into the corridor. I shook my head and followed, Kate catching up to me. She was just as bundled as I was.

"I hate being cold," she snapped when I gave her a questioning look. I raised my hands in surrender and followed her up the stairs to the Great Hall. Al and Kate rushed through breakfast and all but pushed me out the door. As it was, we weren't the only first years gathered in the Quidditch pitch. A tall black man stood by two rows of broomsticks. We had to wait for about ten minutes for all the first years to come down from the school. When all had gathered, the man cleared his throat. Every eye was focused on him.

"I am Professor Restius. I teach Astronomy and referee the Quidditch matches here at Hogwarts. Now, I want you all to step up the broom. Approach it on the left side because it has to rest under your right hand. Yes, even if you're left-handed," he added when a scattering of hands went up.

I stepped up to the nearest broom. It didn't look very stable, in my opinion, but then again I was used to riding the newest, best versions of brooms available. The Nimbus 2000's they put before us looked extremely rickety.

"All right, little ones. Hold out your right hand and say 'Up!' Then you can mount up. When I say to, hover for a little while. I want to see how many of you can actually stay on your brooms."

"Up!" Al said and the broom jumped into his hand. Kate's did the same, which left her looking very smug. When I tried, the broom twitched but, other than that, remained stationary, seeming very content where it was. Irritated, I levered my foot underneath it and kicked it into my hands. Professor Restius saw and gave me a disbelieving look. I shrugged at him and he rolled his eyes then went to help a Hufflepuff whose broom was beating her about the ankles.

After everyone had retrieved their brooms from the ground (via a myriad of methods), we mounted and tried to hover. Al and Kate did fine but I, being my special and _unique_ self, had to find SOME way to be different. As soon as my feet left the ground, my broom flipped over and, before I knew it, I found myself on my back in the same place my broom had laid just minutes ago.

Al touched back down and came running over to me, Kate moments behind. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. My breathing hitched at the close proximity of our faces and his gentle hand on my jaw. Then Al, being Al, ruined my coma-inducing, sweet moment.

"You better come over here, Professor! I think he's concussed. His eyes are out of focus."

"I'm fine!" I snapped, pushing him away. My body's reaction to him irritated me because I didn't understand it. Then. "And since when did you become a Healer?"

"I've seen James take more headers off his broom than I care to count. I've learned what a concussion looks like and I think you should go see Madame Pomfrey."

"I agree," Professor Restius said. "Potter, take Malfoy to hospital. I'll talk to you both about repeating the lesson later."

I grimaced at the thought of getting on the unstable thing again but Al nodded and grabbed my arm. He hoisted me off the ground and insisted on bearing most of my weight as we walked, even though I repeated time and again that I was fine.

One-and-a-half hours and a Pepper-Up Potion later (I had a slight cold from the nasty weather we had been having), I was back on my feet and glaring at Albus for having wasted my time.

"I told you I didn't have a damned concussion."

"I thought you did," he defended weakly. "Your pupils were dilated and unfocused. Those are signs of a concussion."

"Maybe you just turned him on," Kate said, coming up behind us with a stack of homework in her hands. She must have noticed our strange looks but definitely misread them because she said, "Not all of this is mine. A third of it is each of your's. It's from the Transfiguration lesson you missed."

Al made a noise that sounded a bit like a cross between drowning cat and a faulty tuba while his mouth opened and shut.

"I think Al's a bit more concerned about the fact that you think I was turned on," I explained.

"By me!" Al seemed to have found his voice again.

"Exactly. I am not turned on by my best mate, thanks ever so." I was flustered when I remembered how my breathing had stopped and how'd I'd wanted to-

"If you say so, boys. We'd better get a move on, we're gonna be late to Charms."

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**End A/N: The ending was really kinda silly, and it might be a bit young for them to be discussing the subject matter they did. However, pretty much all of my friends agreed with me that lots of almost-twelves have conversations like this. And I needed it to explain what is going on. BTW, there is going to be a time jump in one or two chapters. Also, if you want to learn why nobody really messes with Kate, I have the idea but it doesn't fit in the story. But I will type it out and post it if anyone wants to read it.**


	3. Letters From Home

**A/N: Hello my peoples. I am finally posting chapter 3! Yay! I actually planned on getting this up weeks ago but it didn't quite work out. My excuse for that is that school and boyfriend (anniversary tomorrow *squeeee*) are demanding. ****Anwy. I wanted to post next week as well BUT I am going to Cali on vacation (Sweet!) and will be too busy to update. **

**AND I have just discovered that today is the 50****th**** birthday of Remus John Lupin (whom we all love and miss). I felt that warranted an update.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I is not J. K. Rowling so yeah. I do not own the characters. Cept Kate. She's mine. And Kieran. Sexy boy-child is mine. Also, new teachers are mine. They just popped in my head randomly. I also do not own the myriad of songs that I will be using throughout this. They belong to their respective artists.**

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**Letters from Home**

Dear son, I know I ain't written  
Sitting here tonight alone in the kitchen

It occurs to me  
I might not have said it so I'll say it now:  
Son, you make me proud…

-Letters From Home by John Michael Montgomery

_Dear Father,_

_Hogwarts is definitely going to be a learning experience, isn't it? You may have heard (or you may have not) that I was involved in a bit of a fight the other day. I'm fine but it made me realize something: this place is totally different than I'm used to._

_My classes are fairly good. I love Potions. The teacher, Professor Vixsidy, seems to think I've an aptitude for it. The Head of Slytherin House, Professor King, teaches Charms. He took over last year when Professor Flitwick retired. Professor Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor, is a really nice man. He said you were one of his year-mates, though you were in different houses._

_I've made some new friends. Two are in my year, one is a second-year. My best friend is Albus Severus Potter. I know what your relationship with that family is and I love you very much, Father, but I don't care. He is my best friend and I __will not give him up__. The other friend that's in my year is named Kate Zimmerman. She's a very nice girl and one of the most amazing people I have ever met: she's the first Muggle-born in Slytherin. She actually refers to herself as a Mudblood and gets angry at Al and I if we call her Muggle-born. I know what your opinion of people like her is but again, I don't care. I know I am being excessively rude, Father, but I can't help it. These people are the first real friends I've ever made._

_Last but not least, I have made a friend you'll approve of. His name is Kieran Nott. I believe you went to school with his father. He is an exceptional friend and is the reason the small fight I was in did not escalate._

_I love you and Mother dearly. You mean the world to me, but now you must share this world with my friends. I love them as I do you._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

_Scorpius,_

_Your mother and I are well. We miss and love you dearly, as do your grandmother and grandfather._

_I was very much surprised with your letter._

_I am pleased you like your professors. I do, in fact, know Professor Longbottom, but we did not get on well in school. Please, give him my regards and…my apologies. He'll know what for._

_I am not surprised at you getting in a fight. I told you that you would be judged on your name. I am sorry for this because it is mostly my fault._

_In regards to your friends, I would never dream of telling you to no longer be friends with them. I know how rare true friends are and I know you would not listen to me even if I did express any inhibitions about these friendships._

_I must, however, give you a warning: your grandfather happened upon your letter. His prejudices are much more deep-rooted than mine and he was not well pleased._

_Love,_

_Father_

13

"Shit."

"What?" Al asked, looking over my shoulder at the letter, still munching on a piece of toast.

"My grandfather found out I'm friends with you. This is definitely the point where the fit hits the shan." Kate gave me a weird look and a giggle at my phrasing.

"Why is that bad?" she asked. I sighed.

"Because he is the most prejudiced pureblood in the entire Wizarding World. He will hate you just because you're…" I trailed off, not wanting to say that nasty word.

"A Mudblood. It's all right to say it."

"Yeah," I continued. "And he hates Al because of his father. Which is bloody stupid, in my opinion."

At this point, one of the most awful things I've ever experienced happened. Another owl landed before me on the table, bearing a bright red envelope in its beak.

"Shit," I swore again. Al nodded, looking a bit shell-shocked.

"What's that?" Kate asked.

"A Howler," Kieran said, looking a bit apprehensive.

"What's a Howler?"

"Show her, Scorpius. You're gonna have to open it sooner or later," Kieran added when he saw my look of fear.

"Yeah. Do it before it blows," Al added. I took a deep breath and broke the seal.

"SCORPIUS! I THOUGHT YOUR GRANDMOTHER AND I TAUGHT YOU BETTER! CONSORTING WITH BLOOD TRAITORS, MUDBLOODS, AND HALFERS! WE THOUGHT YOU BEING IN SLYTHERIN WOULD ELIMENATE YOUR CONTACT WITH LESSERS BUT THE HOUSE IS NO LONGER WHAT IT WAS! BUT STILL, YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO GET CAUGHT UP WITH PEOPLE LIKE THAT! DOES THE MALFOY NAME MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?! IT HAS BEEN MADE APPEARENT THAT IT DOES NOT! AS SUCH, YOU WILL NO LONGER BE HEIR OF THE MALFOY ESTATES! YOUR NAME HAS BEEN STRICKEN FROM OUR WILL AND I AM URGING YOUR FATHER TO DO THE SAME! YOU ARE NOT TO COME HOME AT CHRISTMAS BECAUSE WE DO NOT WANT YOU TO CORRUPT THE TRUE HEIR!" the letter screamed.

"Are you done?" I asked maliciously. The letter made a "Pffft" noise and tore itself to pieces. The Great Hall was silent. Every eye was turned towards the Slytherin table. Slowly, conversation resumed. Still, people glanced over at me every couple of minutes. Kate was the first within my hearing range to regain her voice.

"Oh. That's a Howler." I had to laugh at the look on her face but turned to a moan of despondency. I rested my head on my hands and shook. I felt Al put his hand on my back.

"Who's this 'true heir' your grandfather spoke of?" Kieran asked quietly, as if afraid I'd yell as the Howler had done.

"My baby sister. Don't know how I'm expected to corrupt her, seeing as she can't even talk yet."

"You have a sister?" Kieran asked.

"Yeah," Al said, laughing a little. "And her name's about as strange as Scor's."

"I don't think you should talk, _Albus Severus_," I retorted.

"I was named after two great wizards."

"Well, Abby was named after one. So there."

"Abby? Abby's not strange," Kate said, a questioning her eyes. I sighed.

"I call her Abby. Her name's Abraxia." Kieran snorted and Kate giggled. "Shut up. She's named after my great-grandfather."

"Who was even more prejudiced than your grandfather," Al cut in.

"Yeah…" I said, falling back into my thoughts of him.

"Well. I say screw him. If his love is conditional, who needs him?" Kate asked, sensing the direction of my thoughts. At that moment, I was inclined to agree.

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**A/N: Apparently, if I don't beg for reviews, I don't get them. That's sad. Must I guilt you into it or what? Seriously, people, it will take all of two seconds to say "Get your ass in gear and write more." Even that helps me though. Btw, I'm quite aware my writing sucks. Well, actually it doesn't normally but it has lately. So forgive me! **


	4. Follow

**A/N: This is seriously short. I'm sorry. I keep trying to make scenes fit after the explanation of who they have become with the time skip but it did not want to cooperate so that's unfortunately not going to happen. However, it does mean I have an idea where I'm going next, which is always helpful. And I kinda end on a cliffie but after the first foreshadowing, that's not really a cliffie. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I is not J. K. Rowling so yeah. I do not own the characters. Cept Kate. She's mine. And Kieran. Sexy boy-child is mine. Also, new teachers are mine. They just popped in my head randomly. I also do not own the myriad of songs that I will be using throughout this. They belong to their respective artists.**

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**Follow**

Dancing. Walking.

Clock keeps on tocking,  
They sing, they sing ...

Gentlemen and Ladies,  
Animals and Babies,  
We sing, we sing ...  
Na-na-nana-na

-Follow Me Down by 3OH!3

Time passed, as it unfortunately must, and my friendship with Albus Severus Potter strengthened. We were pretty much joined at the hip and it was rare for one of us to be seen without the other. It was strange for us (or for me, at least) to be separate. It felt as if I had an arm or leg missing. He wasn't just my best friend; he was an appendage that seemed more vital than any arm or leg could ever be.

We had grown, of course. We were fifteen, Al almost 16 with his February birthday, and had come out the other side of our growth spurt to be more than a bit on the tall side. Al was 6'3'' and I was 6 foot, dead on. We towered over Kate (poor girl, still 5 foot), who had grown in her own way. The personal spotlight that had shown on her as a child grew as she did. Boys now found her beyond desirable but she didn't date. We (Al and I) found ourselves immune to her "charms" but enjoyed watching her torment the other boys. Kieran had grown as well to the good height of 5'11" and, unfortunately for her, tended to avoid the now-voluptuous Kate (whose crush on him had grown worse with age)when he could. Apparently for good reason. We had once happened upon the two in a more-than-compromising situation. They had sprung apart and Kate ran off like the Hounds of Hades were after her, pushing her skirt down and straightening her shirt at the same time. Kieran buttoned the top two of his shirt composedly, looked at us, then put his hands over his face, sighed, and collapsed against the wall.

"Don't get in pureblood-Mudblood relationship," he advised us from the floor. "It only causes pain and heartache." I nodded understandingly but sheltered Al looked confused.

"Why? What does her blood status have to do with anything?" We both looked at Al as if he had sprouted a second head.

"I can't ever marry her and she knows it, so there'd be no point in having a relationship at all. She also knows that if we ever… you know…. have _relations_….. there is an even smaller chance that I'll be able to marry her."

"But why?!"

"Because every pureblood parent wants their perfect pureblood son to marry a perfect pureblood virgin," I answered.

"Is that what your parents want for you?" Al asked, turning to me. Mutely, I nodded. I didn't like thinking about marriage, especially when I thought about spending my life without Al. It scared me. Matter of f act, it still does.

Al looked troubled but said nothing. Kieran got up, ran his hand through his hair and turned and walked away without a word. Al and I walked the opposite direction, talking of other things.

_13_

Al and I were even more inseparable as we grew up except when it came to our schedules. Al, whose performance on a broom (and sturdy build) had earned him a place as a Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team, was almost constantly busy because of it. Kieran was a Chaser and captain on top of it. Kate (_of course_, bratty little…) was our all-star Seeker. Since she'd been on the team, Slytherin had always caught the Snitch. We didn't always win; especially when we played Gryffindor, whose Chasers had insane scoring skills. However, mostly we won. Not that that's a bad thing, but Kate's ego was. Anyway. Whenever Al had practice and I really didn't feel like watching, I'd find an empty classroom or use the Room of Requirement and sing. It seems totally random, I know, but I'd always loved to sing. Al still teases me about singing at extremely random intervals but I love to do it. I hate people (besides Al and Kate) hearing me sing though. It's awkward, even though everyone who has heard me sing assures me I sound fine. I'm a lirico-leggero tenor, which is really kinda cool. But it doesn't really make a difference. I sing with Kate sometimes. She's in the choir (I have no idea where she finds the time but somehow she does) and is a perfect match for my voice, being a coloratura mezzo-soprano. She has also been the most caring, helpful person in some of the darkest times in my life. But I guess she understands what I went through, what with Kieran being who and what he is and Al for being… Unfortunately (or fortunately, I guess), that's for later.

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**A/N: Sorry it's so short! I had to do it! Sorry! Definitely longer chapter next time. Please be patient with me and my crazy schedule. I have to read three books before April 19****th**** and one of them is 836 pages and I'm only on page 87! Meaning I won't update until April 21****st**** at the earliest. Again, SORRY! Please review and tell me how cranky you are at me. **


	5. So Sorry!

**A/N: I know I haven't written in a reeeeeeeeeeeally long time and I feel horrible about it. However, I've had school work (which I explained in my end A/N in last chapter). Then life happened.**

**I had a stalker, first of all. The second one in as many years. Why I attract the weirdos, I'll never know.**

**Then I had a long drawn-out, pretty messy break-up. We both cried, which sucked. Also, what kind of guy tells you they love you when you're breaking up with them? It's like, "THIS IS HARD ENOUGH, YOU IDIOT!" So I cried. And he kinda cried. Not pleasant.**

**AND SO…. I will be removing this story for the time-being, fixing it, and hopefully reposting it, complete, sometime this summer. However, my summer is very short because I go to one of those competitive schools that don't want us to "lose our knowledge." Whatever. I'm hoping this will improve my writing and my peace of mind. Fingers crossed.**

**Sorry for this!**

**Wish my luck!**


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